A Debt Owed
by Owl344
Summary: Harry Potter walks into Gringotts to repay a debt he incurred to a goblin.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and never will.

Harry Potter walked into Gringotts and looked around for a free teller. He went up to the goblin. "Excuse me," he said.

The goblin looked up at him, half-shocked and half-annoyed. "Yeah?" he said gruffly.

"I'd like to talk to Griphook," replied Harry.

"And why would he want to talk to you?" asked the goblin.

"Tell him…tell him it's about a debt owed," answered Harry.

"He owes you a debt?" said the goblin incredulously.

Harry snorted. "Technically, it _could_ be argued that everyone on this planet now alive owes me a debt, as without me Voldemort would be ruling, but no. It's about a debt I owe to him."

The goblin considered this for a few seconds, then nodded. "I'll ask him if he wants to see you," he informed Harry.

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

The goblin scurried off and Harry waited for a few minutes, feeling the weight of the sword in his pack. Some people might have said that what he was about to do was stupid and pointless—but then, those were the people who hated werewolves and half-giants, too. The memory of Hagrid and Remus brought a pang to Harry's heart, but no tears to his eyes. He knew that they would have understood what he was going to do. As would have Dumbledore.

Before he could descend further into his memories of the past, the goblin returned. "He says he'll see you," the goblin told Harry gruffly. "I'll take you to him. Follow me."

Harry nodded his thanks to the goblin and followed him into the corridors of Gringotts. He finally arrived at a small office. The goblin opened the door and poked his head through. "Oy, Griphook," he called, "I got him." The goblin shot a glance at him and practically shoved him in.

Griphook was sitting at a small desk and glaring at Harry. "Sit down," he told Harry. "Now what do you want?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I told the other goblin—what was his name?'

"Rustgint," replied Griphook warily.

Harry nodded. "Thank you. As I was saying, I already told Rusgint—it's about a debt I owe you."

Griphook glared at him suspiciously. "Much as I'd like you too, Potter, you owe me not debt."

"I do," replied Harry simply. "It's about that time when we broke into Gringotts."

Griphook looked even more suspicious. "As I remember it, I left you and you managed to escape on the back of a dragon. How do you owe me?"

"It's not actually anything we did," conceded Harry, "it's what we were planning to do."

"You were planning to keep the sword?" inquired Griphook smugly.

"Not quite, but close," admitted Harry. "You would have gotten it, in the end, but—look, have you ever heard of Horcruxes?"

Griphook reared back. "You needed the sword to make _them_?" he hissed, disgust in his voice.

Harry shook his head. "No," he replied. "I needed the sword to destroy them. Voldemort made six of them, and the sword was the only thing close at hand that we _knew_ destroyed them."

Griphook frowned. "Goblins made that sword, Harry Potter. It did not have the ability to destroy those…_things_. How did it acquire this talent?"

"Ah," said Harry. "Now _that's_ a story. Umm…have you ever heard any stories about my second year at Hogwarts?"

Griphook's frowned deepened. "Heard, yes, but listened, no. Get to the point, Potter."

"It's a long story, but the most important part is that I _did_ kill a basilisk with that sword. In the process of doing so, the sword made contact with basilisk venom."

"Ah." Griphook, who had been leaning forward, now sat back, satisfied. "I see."

Harry nodded. "Exactly," he replied. "It absorbed it. And since basilisk venom is one of the few things that can destroy a Horcrux…anyway, we _would _have given it to you after we'd broken into the bank—it's just that after would have been a _while_ after."

"So how do you propose to fulfil this debt you feel you owe me?" inquired Griphook.

Harry shrugged. "I can't give you the sword. Sorry, but I can't. It would be pretty pointless anyways. However, I was wondering if you could evaluate it's worth?"

Griphook eyed him suspiciously before slowly nodding. "I could, Potter."

Harry smiled. "Good." He opened his pack and drew out the sword of Gryffindor, and, carefully, lay it shining on the table.

Griphook's eyes opened wide in shock. "You brought it _here_? You are stupider than you look, Potter. What's to keep me from taking it right now?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're not stupid, Griphook. Aside from the public relations nightmare, which _might_ be worth it if you were able to keep it, the next time a Gryffindor student was in dire need it would appear for him or her, and you'd have gone to all that trouble for nothing."

Griphook relaxed. "Not so stupid after all, Potter. But why bring it here, if you cannot give it to me and I cannot take it?"

"If someone wanted to buy it, how much would it cost?"

Griphook looked at him suspiciously. "You said it yourself; no one could buy it."

"Please, just answer the question."

Griphook shrugged. "Very well." He examined the sword carefully. "Should one want to buy it, I think that five thousand and thirty-five galleons should be sufficient."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Thank you."

Griphook looked back up at him. "Why do you wish to know?"

"As I understand it, you feel that when someone buys this, it's on a loan, yes? And that when they die, it should come back to you?"

Griphook nodded. "True, Potter. Why?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I can't do anything about future generations, but I feel that I should pay you for the use I got out of it. Take it from my vault."

The goblin paused a long, long time, and when he spoke, it was as if he was forcing himself to say the words. "Thank you, Potter," he managed finally.

Harry grinned wryly. "No trouble." He glanced at his watch. "I'd best be going. My wife's expecting me."

Griphook looked at him strangely. "You are a strange human, Harry Potter. But, I think, a good one."

Harry grinned. "Coming from you, that's high praise," he said, "so…thank _you_."

He took the sword of Gryffindor and put it back in his pack "Goodbye, Griphook," he said. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime."

Griphook considered this. "Generally, I detest meeting humans. But for you, I might make an exception. Goodbye, Harry Potter."

Harry Potter left, and smiled to himself as he did so. A debt had been paid; a good deed done. He knew that those who had died fighting Voldemort would have approved.


End file.
